Tag Archives: Friend

I, sometimes, think that we, as guys, need to chill. I won’t exclude myself from this. I have the opportunity to be in the vicinity of both sexes during my day-to-day and I will admit that Montreal has extremely beautiful women, but there needs to be some perspective acquired, and parameters established, here. I make it a habit to be aware of my surroundings, as much as I can be. In doing so, one of my favorite things to do is to spot an attractive person (Male or female) and observe the reactions of the people walking towards or driving past them. I do that because I find it interesting to see how little some folks can control themselves. I won’t speak too much on how women respond to seeing a handsome man, in this particular entry. I will talk about us. The men.

There is very rarely any acceptable reason for a man to ogle a woman as she enters his field of view, and then to maintain that unfortunate display until well after she exits it. I find that offensive and extremely unnecessary. No one has ever said that it is wrong to acknowledge the presence of someone that you believe is aesthetically pleasing, to you, but there have to be clear lines drawn. Too often, what I see us doing makes me just plain uncomfortable. And that’s just me, not even being really close to the situation. I simply couldn’t deal with that nonsense, if I were a woman. A friend of mine told me that, once, while she was in the train, a man pressed up against her from behind and refused to move, even though there was reasonably enough space for him to so. When I first heard that, I remembered being mortified. She continued on to say that she never yelled or screamed out because she was afraid of what might happen to her, at his hands. Very few men, again including myself, have ever had to think in that way which, I believe is a big part of why these types of behavioral patterns still exist. Some of us are truly hypocritical, in that sense. I hear, see, and generally experience men being overly protective of their sisters, mothers, and daughters, but as soon as the context has been modified, some of those morals, with regards to the “object of our infatuation”, are more loose and we, a lot of times, begin to objectify in ways that they would never condone. To be fair, a lot of these situations occur whilst the individual is completely unaware of his actions but, then again, other times, we’re in our right minds.Regardless, I still hold us accountable because I believe that it is imperative that we use our intellects at full capacity when these circumstances present themselves. These women are our friends, our co-workers, the people that, when interwoven within the fabric of our lives, make the tapestry that much richer. We need to remind ourselves of this. Always. My rule is this: If you see a beautiful person walking up to you, and you didn’t have to courage to say something to that person while they are in or around your milieu, forget it. Move on. Don’t stay there, gawking at them, as if you’re trying to undress them with your drool.

I know for a fact that I wouldn’t want any guy doing that to my mom. I know for a fact that I wouldn’t want anyone doing that to my sister. So I make it a point not to do that to any woman. I am aware that there are bigger things happening in the world, but I believe that, in continuing to be respectful in that way, I am making it easier for someone. At the very least. I have made my fair share of mistakes, with women. Whether it was saying something that shouldn’t have been said, or otherwise, I believe that I have been, and will continue to be, genuine in my attempts at atonement. This entry was not written with the intent to bash all men, because “all men” don’t do what I have been writing about. But a lot of us do and I just felt that I should present my thoughts on the subject. To all the respectful men, out there, I salute you.

I met Madie around eight or nine years ago. I had gone to a little place called “Blue Dog”, with a few friends, because a friend was DJing, that night. I got in there and it was packed with people. It’s a very small venue, so it doesn’t take a large number of folks to make you start feeling a bit claustrophobic. I also remember that it was really hot, in there. As we made our way through a sea of people, in order to get to the front, I realized that I was gonna have to start looking for ways to get back towards the rear of the spot because I hate the feeling of being stuck, among dozens of people with little space to move. Eventually I made my way to the back and met this beautiful woman. I had seen her dancing, earlier in the night, and at this point, she was tired and decided to have a seat…while still gyrating, on the chair (still one of my funnier memories). We started talking and she let me know that she was in Montreal to visit a friend of hers. I have never forgotten that moment, because that was the last time I would ever see her. We talked for a bit and exchanged numbers, with the intention of hanging out when she got back into the city but we were never able to make it happen. I figured that our connection would eventually fade because it was based on a semi-drunken encounter, but we maintained contact and it slowly began to morph into something altogether different . Be it by text, or through messenger, whatever the medium was, we would periodically let each other know that we cared for, and supported, one another.

The reason that I took the time to write about Madeleine is because I truly love her. I really, really love her. Throughout our friendship, she has been a constant example of ingenuity. A sort of muse. She has always had my back and always encouraged me, no matter the situation, since that very first encounter. I would like to highlight a part of one of our recent back-and-forths:

“I love you! You are enough…”

That comment came at the right time…

I had been dealing with a malaise of, exactly, not feeling as though I was good enough and she just hit me with a large dose of affection, and empathy. Empathy that reminded me that I AM good enough. People sometimes misunderstand when I say that I love a person, because I don’t say it very often, in the context of individuals that are in my life, or maybe, when I DO decide to say it , I don’t contextualize it appropriately, but I don’t care to explain that, anymore. That last message, that she sent, gave me confidence at a time when I was severely lacking in that department. I have no doubt in my mind that I will see her again. It will be a joyous occasion. I just wanted to do something different , with this entry, and show appreciation to a person that inspires me to live life with my spirit. To demonstrate love and compassion, and, last but not least, to be happy. Hopefully, I reciprocate that sentiment. Take care of yourself, friend. We’ll reconnect soon. I love you.

a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations.

That’s what the dictionary says that word is supposed to mean but when everyone has their own, proper, definition for it, which version of that word do I select? See, here’s the thing, I’ve always had a weird relationship with that word because I’ve always felt a step away from inclusion. No blaming here. I’m well aware that this could, and probably is, solely on me and I think that I have done alright despite whatever my issues are. I would definitely need that objective viewpoint, in order to get the real picture of things, though. I have had people tell me things like we “don’t need to be in constant contact in order to be friends”, and I believe that, 100%. You know, life happens a million miles per second and if we look around for the others, we’ll miss it. I’ve got that part. It’s just…if neither of us is willing to extend a hand to the other, in order to keep contact, are we “friends”? What exactly are we clinging to? In this day, and age, silence speaks in a deafening baritone. There’s no good reason that you can give me for not getting in touch with your “friend”, with every option at our disposal, so I don’t want to hear that bullshit about “Y’know, time man”, or “I forgot”, “I been working crazy hours”. Nah, Sorry. The relevance of those words are only good for so long. Be real and call some of the folks by their real names: Acquaintances. It’s not that bad. I’m pretty sure that if all of the acquaintances actually knew that they were acquaintances, they would be okay with it. There’s a certain amount of sweetness in being unapologetically honest about the status of relationships…but we’re afraid…afraid to shake the ground that we believe that we stand so firmly on. The truth is that the ground is constantly shaking beneath you, you simply may not feel it, as much, from time to time.